


The Fog

by silverfoxstole



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, very old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 22:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7592905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxstole/pseuds/silverfoxstole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Visiting Victorian London, the Doctor and Charley discover a strange, twilight world. Why is the fog so thick, and, more importantly, where are all the people?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Opera?”

“Yes, opera.” The Doctor turned, eyebrows raised. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Charley wrinkled her nose. “Opera-opera? With all that screeching and wailing? I don’t fancy that much.”

“I’m surprised at you, Charley,” he chided gently, “I’d have thought you might have appreciated the arts. Opera’s a marvellous musical and theatrical spectacle.”

“Well, yes, I did go to Covent Garden once with Daddy, but I didn’t like it.”

The Doctor reached across the console towards another lever. He hesitated momentarily before pulling it – Charley had watched him pilot the TARDIS on more than one occasion with the distinct feeling that he didn’t entirely know which buttons he should be pressing. “Oh?” he said now, “Why not?”

“Because it’s so incredibly depressing! All about death and misery! It made me feel quite awful. It’s not entertainment, it’s endurance, plus it was all in Italian so I couldn’t understand it.”

“I thought you went to a Swiss finishing school,” he teased.

“It was run by the French, as I think I’ve told you before,” Charley countered. She decided it was time to talk him out of Carmen and into something far more cheerful. “Do we have to see this opera?” she asked, putting on her most wheedling tone, the one she always used to talk her father round. It never failed to work on Daddy. “Couldn’t we…?”

“Couldn’t we what?” the Doctor enquired without looking up. He pretended to be extremely interested in the destination monitor.

“Well, couldn’t we find some real entertainment? Something fun?”

“What, Gilbert and Sullivan, you mean?”

Charley rolled her eyes, knowing that he was deliberately misunderstanding. “No, Doctor, you know that’s not what I meant. You’re just being provoking. I meant something bright, and colourful. Magic, perhaps!”

“Ah, I see.” He looked up, finally, with a devilish smile. “OK, you win. We’ll hunt out some music hall instead.”

“Wonderful! I love a good sing song.”

“Charlotte Pollard, for someone of your station in life, you are determinedly low-brow.”

Charley grinned at him. “Doctor, I do believe that you’re a snob!”

“Me?” He looked profoundly insulted.

“Yes, you. I expect you’ve got a box at Covent Garden, and you go to all the best parties. You probably watch the polo, go to Ascot and see the Henley Regatta!”

The Doctor glanced at her in despairing amusement. “Listening to that, I’m convinced you once met my Third incarnation and never told me.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” The familiar bellowing of the TARDIS’s engines echoed through the room – the glowing rods at the heart of the time rotor came to a halt with a *thunk*. “A-ha! Here we are: 14th November, 1899.”

“Looks a bit murky,” Charley observed, squinting at the picture on the scanner. She couldn’t make out much at all, just a few shadows.

“Fog, according to the TARDIS instruments. Still, it can’t be that bad. Come on!” The Doctor pulled the lever that opened the doors and strode towards them. Charley, used to nasty surprises on exiting the TARDIS, followed with a little more caution.

***

An antiquated metropolitan police box stood on the cobbles, the light on the roof still flashing.

As the light gradually died, two heads – one dark and tousled, the other blonde and bobbed – poked around the doors.

Charley coughed. “Gah! I can’t see a thing!”

The Doctor waved ineffectually at the creeping fog. “It is rather a pea-souper, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it! And I live in London!” Charley could barely make out the figure of her friend at her side. “Where are we?”

“London.” He pulled the TARDIS door closed behind them – Charley caught his arm before the latch clicked.

“Wait a minute – I need a coat, maybe an umbrella.” She ducked under his arm and hurried back into the console room.

Ten minutes later, she found a fur-trimmed coat and hat that matched the Victorian dress she’d put on for the trip. When she returned from the wardrobe, she discovered the Doctor bundled up in a chocolate brown velvet overcoat that looked about three sizes too big – it hung on his slight frame, the hem dangerously close to the floor.

“Where did you get that?” she asked. “It looks as though it was made for someone else.”

“It was made for me, when I was someone else,” he explained patiently. “He was taller than me.”

“I can see that,” said Charley, deciding not to ask at this point exactly what he meant. She glanced at the scanner instead – across the ceiling, the fog was steadily creeping, swirling around the occasional gas lamps on the street. “We’re still going out there, then?”

“Of course! I want to find out why this fog’s so thick.” The Doctor had been rummaging around in an old trunk – he straightened, holding what looked like two carriage lanterns.

“They’ll be very effective,” Charley said dryly.

“I think on this occasion we should avoid anachronisms,” he replied, eyeing up the heavy-duty electric torch he was holding in his other hand. After a moment’s consideration, he dropped the torch into one of his coat pockets. “Always pays to be prepared,” he said in answer to Charley’s raised eyebrow.

“This fog isn’t natural, is it?” she asked, following him to the doors for a second time.

“Well, fog in London is, as you know – result of all the coal fires, and the sulphur in the air – but it shouldn’t be this thick, I’m sure. There was a particularly bad case in 1952, but nothing this early.”

In a moment, they were outside once more. The fog had created a strange, twilight world, the surroundings were faint, the sounds muffled. They barely seemed to be outside at all.

“It’s so quiet,” Charley observed.

“Hmm. Must be due to the fog, though you’d expect some traffic to be about.”

“Well, I suppose you tend to stay indoors if you can’t see six inches in front of your face.”

The TARDIS door swung shut with a click. The Doctor, having found some matches in his bottomless pockets, lit the lanterns and handed one to her.

“Come on,” he said, holding his own lantern aloft, “but tread carefully.”

Charley did. Though she could barely make out her own feet, the cobbles felt slippery under the thin soles of her boots. She wished for a moment that she’d thought to put on that sturdy pair of hiking boots she’d found in the wardrobe the other day.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes. Charley thought from time to time that she could hear water. It sounded quite close, lapping against stone.

“Doctor,” she said, “I think we must be near the Thames.”

“Yes,” he agreed. His voice sounded flat. He stopped for a moment, letting her catch up – when Charley was close enough, she could see that the water in the air had made his curls droop, giving him the appearance of a rather damp spaniel.

“Where could we be? Close to the river, obviously. Westminster?”

“Could be Richmond for all we know. It’s so difficult to get bearings in this fog!” He glared at the water vapour, as though his gaze alone could make it vanish.

“I don’t think scowling at it will do much good,” said Charley.

The Doctor sighed shortly. “No, you’re right. Let’s go on a bit further. There must be some life around here.”

“Maybe some freak accident has wiped out the local population,” she suggested, only half joking.

“No, I would have heard about it. There’s no record in the TARDIS data bank.”

“And that’s accurate, is it?”

“Er…” he glanced over his shoulder. “No. Not entirely. But I would know about it! I’ve spent enough time on Earth…”

“Maybe no one thought to tell you.”

He considered this for a moment. “Yes, maybe you’re right.” There was a brief laugh. “Even I don’t know everything.”

“Oh, what a crushing disappointment!” said Charley. “I thought that you _did_!”

“Did what?”

“Know everything!”

“Oh, very funny. It’d be extremely boring if I did know everything. I’d never bother to get out of bed in the morning.”

“I wasn’t aware that you ever actually went to bed.”

“I do sometimes. The odd six month nap never did anyone any harm.”

Charley shook her head, smiling. “I never know when you’re being serious.”

“I’m always serious. Oh, be careful, there’s - ”

Charley yelled as her foot skidded on a slimy patch of mud.

“ – a slippery bit just here,” the Doctor finished, catching her arm in time to prevent a nasty and embarrassing collision with the ground.

“Thank you,” she said, straightening.

“I did tell you to watch your step.”

“Well, you try creeping about in the fog in Victorian boots!”

He seemed to consider the suggestion, then, with what Charley took to be real seriousness, said, “I don’t think they’d fit me.”

“Oh, I think they’d be rather fetching,” said Charley. She pulled her hat straight, and added, “I don’t think it’s very safe, being so near the river in this fog. I don’t want to fall in.”

The Doctor’s answer was to wrap his long fingers around hers and hold them tightly. “All right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Let’s go, then. And - ”

“I know: tread carefully.”

The two of them walked on, Charley watching her every footstep. Her heavy Victorian dress was cumbersome, the skirts continually wrapping themselves around her legs and hampering her progress. The Doctor, of course, had no such problem, and he didn’t have shoes with slippery soles, either, she grumbled to herself.

When, after half an hour, they still hadn’t seen a soul, Charley said, “Maybe we should go back to the TARDIS.”

“What for?”

“It might be…safer. I don’t like it out here, it’s too strange. It feels as though we’re in another world. It doesn’t feel like London.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right there. All right, we’ll go back, have a think. Maybe hop forwards a few hours, to daylight. We can - ” The Doctor broke off suddenly with a startled shout. A second later, his grip on Charley’s hand was wrenched away, followed by a loud splash.

Charley hurried forwards, holding her lantern aloft. “Doctor, are you there? Are you all right?”

Her foot skidded on mud – she pulled back sharply, just in time to stop herself from going head first into the Thames. They must have been closer to the riverbank than they had thought.

She tried desperately to squint into the gloom, but the fog was too thick. “Doctor? Where are you?”

Her only answer was the lapping of the water.

“Doctor!!”

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

“Doctor! Doctor, where are you?”

Charley held her lantern high, trying to shed some light on the dark, impenetrable water of the Thames. She couldn’t see anything. The Doctor had vanished without a trace.

Then, quite suddenly, something surfaced. There was a great splashing as something emerged, waving an arm.

“Doctor!” Charley leaned out closer with the lantern, desperately trying to keep her footing. “Doctor, I’m here!”

“…Charley?” More splashing. “Charley, I don’t think I can – there’s something dragging me down!”

“It’s that old coat – take it off!”

“I can’t, it’s too – _aah_!”

“Doctor!” Charley glanced about wildly. “Hold on – I’ll try to find some help!” Backing carefully onto the towpath, she hurriedly looked in either direction. The fog was so thick she could barely make out more than shadows. Lifting the lantern, she made her way further along the path – after a couple of yards, her feet found stone, solid stone.

“Charley?” The voice was faint.

“Hold on, Doctor, I’m coming!” To her amazement and relief, Charley realised that she had found an old stone jetty. There was no sign of a boat, but her heart leapt as, casting about with the lantern, she found something wooden on the ground. Grasping it, she discovered it to be a boathook. “Oh, thank goodness! Hang on, Doctor!”

She skidded on the slimy steps that let down from the jetty, the water splashing against her feet as she balanced precariously on the last one. She leaned out as far as possible, reaching the boat hook over the water.

“Doctor, where are you?”

There was the sudden sound of something surfacing to her left – Charley held out the boat hook. “Catch hold of this! Can you reach it?”

“I think – yes!”

Charley nearly overbalanced as there was a weight on the end of the pole all of a sudden. She dug her heels into the mud on the step and held on tight.

A few minutes later, the Doctor had reached her, and she was pulling him up onto the safety of the jetty. He was shivering, wringing wet from head to foot.

“Thank you, Charley,” he said, after coughing up a fair bit of the Thames.

“What on Earth happened?”

“Lost my footing. Stupid of me, after telling you to be careful. Got too near the edge.”

Charley frowned. “But you’re a strong enough swimmer. Why couldn’t you reach the bank?”

“Couldn’t see it in this fog. I could barely make out your light, and my eyesight’s sharper than a human’s. Plus, there was something pulling me down.”

“Yes, well, I did tell you to get rid of that coat. It must weigh a ton!”

The Doctor shook his head. Water was dripping from his sodden hair, running from the end of his nose. “It wasn’t the coat. There was something in the water, putting pressure on me. Like some enormous weight trying to push me right to the bottom.”

“How could that be?”

“I don’t know. What I *do* know is that it’s not a natural part of the composition of the River Thames.”

“Well, that’s not important now,” said Charley. “Let’s go back to the TARDIS – you need to get out of those wet clothes. You’ll catch your death out here.”

He nodded, spraying water all over her.

“Which way *is* the TARDIS?” Charley peered into the fog.

The Doctor rummaged in his pocket and produced the electric torch. To Charley’s surprise, it still worked, despite being as wet as the Doctor.

“This isn’t a real torch, is it?” she asked. “Unless all torches in the future are waterproof, of course.”

“Charley,” said the Doctor as they squelched back to the TARDIS together, “You ask too many questions.”

***

The holographic ceiling of the TARDIS console room showed the gloom outside the ship, fog rolling and swirling around lampposts and trees. As Charley touched a control, the picture moved, tracking around the area, across the river.

She had been watching the exterior of the TARDIS for some time, in between cups of tea, while the Doctor had a hot bath and found some dry clothes. The scene outside never changed. According to the clock on the console, the time was just after six o’clock in the morning. The sun should have been rising, but still the fog refused to lift.

Eventually, the Doctor returned to the console room, wearing a variation his usual ensemble: black trousers, waistcoat pattered with Chinese dragons, baggy-sleeved shirt. His collar was open, a blue silk cravat draped round it.

“Any change?” he asked, making a beeline for the teapot.

“No,” said Charley, “Nothing at all. I haven’t seen a single soul in the last couple of hours. And there’s another thing.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“The TARDIS says we’re in Westminster, but I haven’t heard Big Ben chime at all. It’s all very peculiar.”

“It is indeed.” The Doctor crossed to her side, teacup in one hand. His hair was still damp, curling around his face. “Hmm.” The fingers of his free hand hovered over the controls. “Maybe if we tried an infra-red scan…”

“Like this, you mean?” Charley twisted a knob, and the ceiling image became grainy, black and red, as though viewed through a coloured filter.

The Doctor stared at her. “How did you do that?” he demanded.

Charley shrugged. “It’s just a knack.” She declined to reveal that she had no idea what an infra-red scan was – she’d discovered how to make the ceiling red by accident when trying to find the door control. “Nothing at all, really.” She looked at him, and found herself grinning. “You don’t know how to do it, do you?”

“Not know? I - ” He looked uncomfortable. “Oh, all right, no, I don’t. When I reconfigured the console I could never find the right switch.” He fiddled with a couple of dials for a moment, then asked casually, “Which one was it?”

Charley tapped her fingers on the wooden ledge of the console, gazing studiously up at the red ceiling. “Do you know, I don’t think I can remember…”

“Charley…” There was a vaguely threatening tone in the Doctor’s voice.

A big smile spread across Charley’s face. “I wonder…which one was it?”

The Doctor fixed her with a mock glare. “Charley,” he said with controlled patience, “which switch was it?”

Charley looked back at him, innocently. “Shouldn’t we be finding out about the fog?”

“I won’t forget this,” he said. Charley knew that once he was involved in something, the switch would be forgotten in an instant. She’d tell him. Eventually.

The Doctor found the dial that moved the camera – they watched as the scanner rotated, giving them a three hundred and sixty degree view of the riverbank.

“Nothing out of the ordinary there,” he mused. His fingers played over the controls for a few moments – the picture zoomed in on the river. A ream of figures and characters streamed along one side, above the bookcases, none of which Charley understood.

“I hate to ask another question,” she said, “but what does all that gobbledegook mean?”

The Doctor gazed up at the display for some time without saying anything.

“Doctor?” Charley prompted at last.

“Hmm?” His eyes wandered back down to her face. “Oh – well, it mean that I was right. There is something in the water.”

“You don’t have to sound so smug about it.”

“Sorry.” He flashed her a smile.

“So exactly what *is* in the water?”

“Some kind of micro-organism, as far as I can tell. It certainly shouldn’t be there in this time period, if any.” The Doctor started flicking switches and pulling levers in what Charley recognised as the familiar dematerialisation procedure.

“We can’t leave!” she exclaimed. “What about London? You can’t - ”

“Charley.” He shook his head, a faint despairing expression on his face. “Charley, Charley, Charley. You know me better than that.”

“Yes. Sorry.” Charley peered at the destination monitor. “So where are we going?”

“To where all this is coming from – under the water.”

 

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, wonderful. We’re in a dungeon!”

The Doctor followed Charley out of the TARDIS, shrugging on his coat. He was holding the electric torch – he played the beam over the walls for a moment, but revealed nothing more than dank stone. There was the constant, steady drip of water from somewhere nearby.

“Hmm. Not very hospitable, is it? Ever been in a dungeon, Charley?”

“No, thank goodness, but this is how I’d expect one to look. Why – have you visited many?”

“More than I can count. In my experience, they’re usually full of chains to rattle and assorted instruments of torture. This isn’t a dungeon, it’s a tunnel.”

“A tunnel to where?”

“One side of the Thames to the other, I assume. Useful if you need to get somewhere in a hurry.”

“And you think that whatever’s causing the fog is down here?” Charley asked.

“I’m hoping that. Come on – let’s take a look around.”

Charley followed him down the tunnel, their footsteps ringing on the stone. They hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when the Doctor suddenly gave a hiss of pain and dropped the torch.

“Doctor!” Charley exclaimed. She managed to find his side in the dim light from the fallen torch: he was leaning against the wall, his face screwed up in discomfort. “What’s the matter?”

“Can’t…can’t you hear it?”

She glanced around. “Hear what?” They were alone – the only noise her ears could catch was the dripping of water onto stone.

“…voices…dozens of voices…”

“Doctor, I can’t hear anything!” She held his arm tightly, trying to stop him collapsing. She hoped he wasn’t going to faint.

Quite abruptly, the attack, fit, whatever it was, ceased. The Doctor opened his eyes, blinking furiously in the gloom.

“Are you all right?” Charley asked anxiously, still holding his arm. “What was it?”

“Psychic feedback,” he replied. “Someone down here is using a very powerful psycho-temporal device. It gives off huge amounts of mental distortion.”

“Doctor,” said Charley wearily, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Imagine someone using a battering ram on your mind. Very nasty.”

“Oh, I see. Well, no I don’t, but I’ll take your word for it.”

He patted her shoulder. “That’s my Charley. Come on – let’s get to the bottom of this.”

“Should you go on? It might happen again.”

“I’ll be prepared for it next time. Besides, if someone is using psycho-temporal technology, I have to put a stop to it.”

They walked on in silence.

“Doctor,” said Charley after a few minutes, “does this mind-bending thingumy have anything to do with the fog?”

“I think that’s very likely, yes,” the Doctor replied. “Remember that feeling you had on the riverbank? Everything felt strange?”

“Oh, yes! It wasn’t nice.”

“Low-level psychic suggestion, telling you to keep away from the river. Those micro-organisms in the water were effectively – with rather more force - telling me to do the same.”

“To keep us away from this place?”

She could see the Doctor’s grin in the torchlight. “Precisely. A rather effective form of guard dog.”

“Well, it can’t be that effective,” Charley pointed out, “It didn’t work on us, did it?”

“Ah, but we’re not your average visitor, are we? You’re rather less impressionable than most, Charley.”

“Oh, and you’re far too clever to be taken in by a bit of…what did you call it?”

“Psychic suggestion,” said the Doctor, “and thank you. I wonder…”

“You wonder what?” asked Charley.

“I wonder whether the fact that I’m not suggestible had anything to do with those creatures in the water trying to drag me under. They tried very hard. Maybe they were - ”

“ – trying to bring you here?” she suggested.

He stared at her for a long moment, then, to her surprise, grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her on the nose. “Charley, you are a genius!” he exclaimed.

“I know,” she said, blushing slightly but pleased.

The Doctor let her go, and continued striding up the tunnel.

Fighting down her momentary disappointment, Charley ran after him, hitching up her long skirts. She had no idea how her mother had managed with all these petticoats, but then, she reflected, her mother hadn’t had to run up and down tunnels in them.

“Doctor, wait for me!” she called. She could still feel the touch of his lips on the tip of her nose – it had felt nice, but she wasn’t quite sure why.

When she caught up with him, the Doctor had reached a bend in the tunnel. Beyond, it widened into a sort of cavern – there was light here, spilling out into the passage beyond. The Doctor pulled Charley into the shadows – she was about to ask what was going on when she put a finger to his lips and shook his head.

Charley peered past him into the cavern. It was full of strange equipment, all gleaming white and silver, the purpose of which she couldn’t begin to imagine.

The Doctor looked carefully right and left, the beckoned her onwards. The pair of them tiptoed into the cavern – Charley couldn’t see anyone about, but she kept her eyes peeled just in case.

Eventually, the Doctor stopped by a rather fearsome-looking contraption. It was all polished metal, flashing lights and snaking tubes, the whole lot connected to a large glass column big enough for a person to stand in.

“What’s that?” Charley whispered.

“I’m not entirely sure, but I have my suspicions,” the Doctor replied unhelpfully. He moved on to another machine. “A-ha. Now we know why Big Ben didn’t chime.”

“We do? Please enlighten me.”

“This is a temporal generator. It can create a stasis field, a sort of bubble around a patch of time, effectively stopping time’s flow. London is caught within one of these bubbles.”

“And…time isn’t flowing?”

“Exactly. The whole city’s been brought to a standstill. We wouldn’t notice it, existing out of time as we do.”

“Can you turn it off?” Charley asked.

“Oh, yes, that’s easy. I’m not sure that I should, though, until we discover what’s going on. Let’s have a bit of a poke around first.” The Doctor wandered off, examining this machine and humming over that piece of equipment.

Charley, having no idea at all what any of it could possibly be for, took a tour of the perimeter of the cavern. She hadn’t gone far when she discovered something rather alarming. Until now, they had seen no one. Charley had assumed that the London population were all frozen by the Doctor’s ‘time bubble’, or whatever it was. Now she found that, in some cases at least, that wasn’t true.

Along one curved wall of the chamber were ranged several more glass columns, like the one in the centre of the room. The only difference was that while that one was empty, these columns were occupied.

A person lay in each one, as still as death. Charley felt very cold all of a sudden.

“Doctor!” she called.

A moment later, he was at her side. “I should have suspected,” he said grimly. “I’m getting slow in my old age.”

“You’ve seen this before?”

He nodded. “Somewhere far away from here.”

“Are they…are they dead?”

“No – just kept within a temporal stasis field, like the city. I doubt whether their minds are still their own, though.”

“Their minds? What - ”

“You are looking, Charley, at some of the greatest minds in London – painters, writers, scientists…they’ve all been brought here for their brainwaves. Just like those things in the river tried to bring me.”

“Well done, Doctor,” said a voice behind them. A noise echoed like a gunshot – someone was clapping, slowly and mockingly.

Charley spun round to see a woman standing in the cavern entrance, a woman with long dark hair, a beautiful but cruel face and a large gun levelled at them both.

“I though it was you,” she said, her voice deep and harsh. “I wondered how long it would take you to work it out.”

“Too long. I should have guessed – you’re so fantastically predictable,” snapped the Doctor.

“Doctor,” Charley hissed, “Who is she?” She’d never seen him react that way to anyone before.

“Will you tell her, Doctor, or shall I?” the woman asked.

The Doctor’s eyes, as hard and cold as sapphires, didn’t leave her face. “This, Charley, is an old acquaintance of mine. She calls herself the Rani, and her hobby is stealing people’s minds.”

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

“Not quite a hobby, Doctor, more of a way of life,” the woman called the Rani said. She smiled, and a shiver ran down Charley’s spine. It was a cold, predatory smile, of the kind that belonged rightly to Shere-Khan the tiger in the Jungle Book. “Another body? You’re living too fast – you seem to have gained a new one every time we meet. I see you’re going for the young, ineffectual look this time.”

“I can assure you, it’s not done for your benefit, and you know as well as I do that regeneration is a lottery. I haven’t forgotten how you tricked me after my sixth – how did you escape from the Tetraps, by the way?”

“That isn’t important. I’m glad you arrived when you did – I need your help with something.”

“You really think I’m going to help you?” he asked. “Please. I have my reputation to consider.”

“That’s never stopped you consorting with that bearded penguin.” The Rani raised an eyebrow. “And anyway, my dear Doctor, what makes you think you have any say in the matter?” She raised a hand, ever so slightly – the next moment, Charley cried out in alarm as she found herself grabbed from behind by a huge man that she guessed must have been a prize-fighter at some time in his life. She tried to break free, but he was far too strong.

“Let go of me!” she shouted, kicking out as best she could.

The Doctor had been grabbed too, though he barely seemed to notice. He was too busy glaring at the Rani. “You planned all this, didn’t you? You intended me to come here all along.”

She laughed. “Arrogant as ever! My schemes don’t revolve around you, Doctor. This experiment has been in place for some time – I had no idea that you were here until you fell into the water. When my little organisms revealed that an intelligence that could only belong to a Time Lord was in the vicinity, I thought it might be amusing to have you here. And, I realised that in you I have the perfect solution to a rather tricky problem.”

“Whatever you’re doing, I want no part in it.”

“You have no choice. I have a tank full of the best minds this primitive city has to offer, but they lack guidance, cohesion. They need a greater intellect to bind them together. Until you arrived, my only option would have been to join the loop myself, and I’m sure you appreciate what a nuisance that would have been. You may be a fool, Doctor, but you have that intelligence.”

“You tried that once before, remember? I have a feeling that the brain in question blew up.”

She scowled at him. “I have remedied that. There are siphons in place to remove your more…rebellious tendencies from the loop.”

“You mean you want to give me a psychic lobotomy!” exclaimed the Doctor. “No! No way – I won’t agree to this! I’ve had quite enough of people only wanting me for my mind lately. I didn’t let them take it, so I certainly won’t give you the chance!”

“Then I’ll take the girl. You may change your mind when you see what I can do to her.”

Charley stared, remembering all the people in the tubes. What had the Doctor said – ‘I doubt if their minds are still their own’? She swallowed, suddenly cold.

“Charley’s of no use to you,” the Doctor was saying now. “Look at her – she’s just an ordinary human, not a genius. She’s stupid, useless.”

“Useless?” Charley exclaimed indignantly. “Doctor, how can you - ”

“Be silent, girl,” snapped the Rani. “Her will is very strong, Doctor. It would be interesting to analyse. And who knows – maybe she’ll enjoy being a vegetable.”

“I’ll give you vegetable!” Charley struggled as hard as she could, but her captor remained unmoved, his grip like an iron vice. “How dare you treat me like a…a rat in a maze!”

“That is exactly what you are to me, you stupid girl! It makes little difference what I do to humans – I can always get more.”

“You always were callous, Rani,” said the Doctor. “You haven’t a shred of compassion in you.”

“Compassion is an emotion rarely conductive to science,” the Rani replied. “Call yourself a scientist? Your hearts bleed too much.” She waved a hand at Charley’s guard. “Take her to the machine.”

“No!” the Doctor shouted. “Leave her out of this.”

“Doctor, no - ” Charley began, but he silenced her with a glance.

“Let Charley go, and I’ll help you,” he said.

A smile twisted the Rani’s mouth. “You show sense at last, Doctor. I suppose it had to happen some time.”

“I warn you, Rani – you harm one hair on her head and you’ll wish you were back on Lakertya with the Tetraps,” the Doctor said, his voice dangerously soft.

“You’re hardly in a position to bargain with me.” She beckoned to the other giant. “Bring him.”

“Doctor, no, please!” Charley called to him. “Let her take me!”

“She’d only drain us both, Charley! It’s all right – don’t worry about me,” the Doctor told her.

She could only watch helplessly as the huge man dragged him across the room, and into the glass tube in the centre. The Rani busied herself with switches and screens.

“Oh, Doctor,” Charley whispered. Her guard had let her go – assisting the Rani with something – but there was nothing she could do for him.

“I hope you won’t find this too painful, Doctor,” the Rani said.

“Oh, I’ve had bigger and nastier people than you trying to suck my brain out,” he replied, flippant as ever.

“Doctor, please don’t let her do this,” Charley pleaded.

“She doesn’t frighten me, Charley,” he said, smiling at her. He turned to the Rani, leaning on the glass. “So, what was with the fog? Some kind of low-level telepathic suggestion designed to keep away anyone who might be resistant to the temporal manipulation?”

“Correct,” the Rani conceded. “It was the perfect delivery mechanism.”

“Thought as much. Very nice machine you have there, by the way, isn’t it, Charley? Lovely and shiny, covered with lots of pretty buttons…”

“This is completely irrelevant,” the Rani broke in impatiently. “That will be your last trivial thought, Doctor. Once inside my psychic loop, your mind will be forced to think along more rigid lines.”

“You know, Rani, you’re conducting this experiment forty years too early,” he snapped back, “The Nazis would have welcomed you with open arms.”

“It never ceases to amaze me how someone of your obvious intellect can be such an idiot! Well, not for much longer.” With a terrible smile, the Rani yanked down a lever. “Goodbye, Doctor!”

There was a blinding flash of light – the machine began to hum, the tubes snaking from the column glowing, fused with power. Above the noise rose a scream of agony from the Doctor.

“No!!” screamed Charley, starting forwards. “Stop hurting him!”

“This is nothing – the real pain is yet to come!” crowed the Rani. “He’s going to regret disrupting my experiments in the past!” She gestured to one of the giants. “Take her away and lock her up. She may still be of some use to me.”

“That’s what you think,” Charley muttered. Hitching up her skirts, she ducked under the giant’s arm, just as he made a lunge for her. He was big, but she was quicker, and more nimble. Her momentum carried her on, skidding across the damp floor – before she could stop herself, she had cannoned into the Rani, knocking them both to the floor.

“You fool!” the Rani shrieked, trying to get up. “You’ll ruin everything!”

Charley was away before the hovering henchmen could reach her, scooping up the Rani’s fallen gun. It was cumbersome, and covered in switches she didn’t understand, but it would afford her some protection.

The Rani struggled to her feet, bellowing at her guards. “Don’t just stand there, you idiots – get after her!”

Charley ducked behind one of the computer banks, recognising it as the one the Doctor had said controlled the time bubble. He’d been trying to tell her where the off switch was, but she couldn’t see anything that looked likely.

Behind her came a heavy footstep – she spun, tightening her grip in the gun. The hulking giant trying to creep up on her stopped in his tracks.

“Don’t come any closer,” Charley said fiercely. “I’ll shoot.”

“She can’t hurt you with that,” shouted the Rani, exasperated. “She wouldn’t know how to fire it.”

Suddenly, the solution popped into Charley’s head. “Oh, really?” she asked, and turned, pulling the gun’s trigger as hard as she could.

The Rani howled in anger and frustration as the time generator exploded into a million pieces, showering them all with bits of metal and plastic. “You imbecilic child! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

She ran at Charley, leaping on her and knocking her to the ground. Charley struggled to keep her grip 0n the gun. The Rani barely seemed to notice it, intent on getting her fingers around Charley’s throat.

“I don’t usually like undignified brawling,” the Rani growled, grabbing a handful of Charley’s hair and pulling, hard, “but in this case I’ll make an exception. Give me the gun, girl!”

Charley yelped in pain and brought up one foot, kicking the Rani in the back. The Time Lady shouted, and made a lunge at Charley’s neck. Charley twisted desperately aside, swinging the hand that still held the gun between them. The barrel was jammed right up against the Rani’s bodice – she stopped, breathing heavily, staring at it.

“You’ve seen me fire this once, “Charley said quietly. “I’ll do it again.”

The Rani laughed, shortly. “The Doctor would never take in a killer – he’s too nice for that.”

“I was taught to shoot when I was twelve. I’m a crack shot. You’ve hurt the Doctor – I won’t let you do that and get away with it. I’ll fire this gun, believe me,” Charley vowed, “and from this distance, I don’t stand a chance of missing.”

“The recoil would kill you, too, you fool,” snapped the Rani. “Is he really worth dying for?”

Charley smiled. “Oh, yes. He is.”

The Time Lady stared at her for a long moment. “No wonder he always has an adoring human at his heels,” she muttered.

Charley’s finger tightened on the trigger just a fraction. “Get off me, and free the Doctor. Reverse whatever you’ve done to him.”

Reluctantly, the Rani climbed to her feet. Charley followed her over to the control bank, the gun pressed into the small of her back.

“Go on,” she said, “Do it now.”

The Rani was smiling – Charley couldn’t work out why until she suddenly found herself sprawling on the ground, the gun gone from her hand. The Time Lady had vanished.

She glanced at the Doctor – he was slumped against the glass wall of the tube, looking as lifeless as the Rani’s other prisoners. Charley didn’t want to let her get away, but if she hesitated now the Doctor could die.

She stared at the machine in front of her, trying to remember how the Rani had operated it. The switches and dials and levers meant nothing to her. She forced herself to think. “Come on, Charlotte,” she muttered, “You saw her do this! Think!” Her hand found the lever the Rani had pulled – she pushed it up, hoping against hope that she was doing the right thing.

The machine began to make a different sound. She ran to the glass column, finding the switch that opened it –a panel in the side hissed open and the Doctor fell out into her arms. He was as limp as a rag doll, his head lolling on her shoulder.

“Doctor?” She tapped the side of his face, but provoked no response. “Doctor, can you hear me?”

Nothing. Charley looked around for the Rani, but she was nowhere to be seen. Anger was welling up inside her, anger stronger than any she’d ever felt before. “You’ve killed him!” she shouted to the room at large.

The Rani’s harsh voice echoed from the stone. “You expect me to care?”

Charley hefted the Doctor in her arms. Unable to think of anything else to do, she bent her head and kissed him on the end of his nose.

A moment later, his eyes fluttered open. Relief flooded through Charley, dampening the anger. “Oh, thank goodness! I thought you were dead!”

He gazed up at her, frowning slightly. “…who…what...?”

“It’s me, Charley. Remember? Ch-ar-ley.”

“Oh, yes…what happened?”

“I’ll explain later.”

He smiled weakly. “That’s usually my line.” Charley helped him to stand up, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Where’s the Rani?”

“Ran off. She gazumped me, I’m afraid. She’s taken those giants of hers, too.”

The Doctor’s frown had returned, and deepened. “ I don’t think she did. Look.”

“Rats! Eeurgh,” said Charley with feeling, seeing the two large brown specimens that were sniffing around a coil of wiring on the floor. “Where did they come from?”

“The Rani never could resist tampering with genetics – she’s made a speciality of it. These rats aren’t rats. They’re human beings – at least, they were.”

“You mean – oh, those poor men!” Charley felt sick. “That’s despicable!”

“She must have used the machine to take control of their minds. When she wanted to leg it, they weren’t any use to her, so…” The Doctor gestured helplessly at the rats. “Speaking of the machine, we’d better switch it off – London’s been in stasis quite long enough.”

“Oh, it’s all right, I took care of it,” said Charley with a grin.

He caught sight of the remains of the machine, and blinked. It was still smoking slightly, what was left of it. “Did you do that?”

She nodded. “Yes. It was fantastically satisfying. Daddy taught me to shoot years ago. I wasn't very good - I once shot our gamekeeper's hat off. Poor Burke was never quite the same again.”

“I’ll bet. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you. Well, the Rani will be long gone by now, and we have more important things to worry about. There are twenty-five eminent Victorians waking up over there, and they deserve some sort of explanation.”

Charley had forgotten all about the unfortunate prisoners in the tubes. “What on Earth are we going to tell them?”

“Well, you’re the heroine of the hour, and you have a very vivid imagination. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

She gaped at him. “Doctor, you are not leaving me to clear up this mess! You wouldn’t be so rotten - ”

He just looked back at her, and a smile twitched at one corner of his mouth.

Charley slapped him on the arm. “You are an awful, awful man!” she declared.

“Ow! Face it, Charley, you wouldn’t have me any other way,” said the Doctor. He slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Come on, Annie Oakley, let’s get it over with.”

“Doctor, I’d be careful what you call me,” said Charley in a warning tone, “I haven’t forgotten that you referred to me as stupid, you know. And useless.”

“Would it help if I told you how grateful I am to you for saving my life? Again?” he asked.

“It might, a little. I’m keeping a record, you know.”

“How many times is it now?”

“Oh, at least ten, I think.”

“Miss Pollard, that is the greatest exaggeration I’ve ever heard! It can’t be more than three!”

“Oh, all right – five.”

“Four,” he countered, “no more than that.”

Charley couldn’t help laughing. “Doctor, when all this is over, can we go on holiday? I think I need one.”

“Good idea. You know, Florana is lovely at this time of year: benevolent sun, effervescent water…”

“It sounds wonderful.” Charley looked at the group of very confused Victorians climbing out of the capsules on the other side of the room – one man caught sight of them and held up a hand. His face was red, his white whiskers bristling with indignation.

“You, sir!” he called out, “What the devil is going on here?”

Charley exchanged a glance with the Doctor. “Do you want to start the explanations, or shall I?”

FIN


End file.
